Wasted Samurai
by BadGurl
Summary: 'How long can amnesia really last? p.s. Amiboshi fic


This is my first Amiboshi/Miaka fic kies? Ummmm…………..actually this is my first Fushigi Yuugi fic ever.0_o! But from what I've seen I support all Miaka couples^^ Nuriko such a cute little dork ^_^y (I mean that in an affectionate way*dun ask, inside joke*) I've never seen any episode but the first one T_T but hopefully I'll get more, I didn't see this episode but I've read guides so just work with me kay?   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
† W a s t e d S a m u r a i †   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
Wasted Samurai   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Would she think him selfish? Would she think him selfish if he had shoved the forgetful potion down her throat? Would she think him selfish had he stolen Chiriko's name? Would she think him selfish had he done it all to keep her with him? Amiboshi thought pensively staring at his flute. She had loved his melody, had thought it could bring a smile to even Satan's face. As he attacked her, tried to murder her seishi, still she thought his melody to be beautiful. A small regretful smile stole his lips for a few minutes remembering the fleeting moments he had with her. Oh yes, he remembered, he could remember. He knew of his real name, his real past, and what it meant. As they say, evil things never die; they just sleep for a while.   
  
  
  
"Kaika!" A voice called.   
  
  
  
Amiboshi a.k.a. Kaika abruptly looked up to the source of this broken reverie.   
  
  
  
"Hai Okaa-san?"   
  
  
  
She giggled and shook her head knowingly.   
  
  
  
"Silly boy, pull your brain from the clouds and come eat." She laughed turning to walk back to their small cottage.   
  
  
  
Amiboshi laughed fakely and put his free hand behind his head.   
  
  
  
"Ah, Iie Okaa-chan, I'm not very hungry."   
  
  
  
His foster mother worriedly turned around walking back and put a hand to his forehead.   
  
  
  
"Nani? Are you feeling well Kaika-chan?" She asked her voice full of concern.   
  
  
  
"Hai hai Okaa-san, arigato but I'm just not up to it tonight."   
  
  
  
Reluctantly the old woman nodded and began to join her husband.   
  
  
  
Amiboshi licked his lips flicking a piece of greenish blond hair out of his eyes that flickered playfully in the night sky. He brought his flute up to his moist lips raising his sea eyes to the moon he began to play a familiar tune.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I'm searching for a man   
  
All across Japan   
  
Just to find   
  
To find my Samurai   
  
Someone who is strong   
  
But is still a little shy   
  
Yes I need   
  
I need my Samurai   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She loved this song. His precious Suzaku no miko. His angel of compassion and forgiveness. The only one who could forgive the devils themselves. She was everything he wanted. Near death, his own flute and her hand gripping it the only thing keeping him from the reapers hand, looking into her hazel eyes he knew everything. Understood everything. Wanted everything. And to him, she was everything. Tears rimmed her beautiful eyes as he gazed into them like an endless sea he wanted to drown in. She offered him redemption. After what he had done, not knowing and not caring about his past, she still offered him that peace. A peace he didn't deserve. A tear slid down his cheek mimicking her own he knew what he must do. To protect her innocence, to protect her body, to protect her from him, and most of all to protect him from himself. This was one thing wanted he couldn't hurt. But gazing into those perfect orbs he wanted to take her hand, pull himself up, and accept her offer of happiness. He often wondered if that was his mistake. But no, no that wasn't the way. He wouldn't taint her.   
  
  
  
Their eyes connected, he chuckled a small knowing smile playing on his features………And he let go. He closed his eyes feeling his body fall to the water below. For a moment he felt as if he was flying. His hand stilling wringing and outstretched, like his body was rebelling his mind's choice to let her go.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
I'm your little butterfly   
  
Moving like the moon   
  
Making patterns in the sky   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Hazel. Hazel skies were all he saw through closed lids. So pretty. So pretty. His entire body suddenly felt a cold blanket wrap him in its arms. And through the darkness that overtook him, he still saw her hazel.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
I'm your little butterfly   
  
Moving like the moon   
  
Painting colors in the sky   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He heard a groan. Blur, darkness, blur, darkness. And then a face. Amiboshi opened his eyes, his vision beginning to come back. And old woman's wrinkled face appeared. He was reflexed to defend himself but his body protested when he jerked up. It was then that he found the painful groaning came from himself.   
  
  
  
"Lay young one." She whispered comfortingly, laying a hand upon his chest gently pushing him down.   
  
  
  
He said nothing but grudgingly did as he was told. At the same time a bit surprised at her kindness. He was a stranger, no? Why was she helping him. He had not received such kindness since-   
  
  
  
"Mia-Miaka." He heard his own struggled whisper.   
  
  
  
The woman looked down curious and a little startled. Why should she be?   
  
  
  
"You still remember? No, she is not here. You were alone." Her voice was full of sympathy.   
  
  
  
Alone. He knew that word. It was practically his bible. Alone was cold. Alone was empty and lonesome. Alone was his life. So why did it hurt so much now? A painful breath escaped him. The child girl had made him soft. Perhaps her own naivety had rubbed off on him during their short time together. He almost smirked at the thought had every muscle in his body not been searing. He fought back a cringe as he felt the familiar silk of liquid gather about his forehead. But this water was different, it was warm and comforting, yet still lacked the ability to make its victim forget the pain. He sighed almost disappointedly. This would have to do anyways. A coppery metallic taste slipped past his taste buds from the stream running down his cheek. Was this blood his own? He briefly considered how hurt he was.   
  
  
  
In all honesty he hadn't felt a thing. That was how both pains snuck up and pounced on you. He frowned and closed his eyes. Trying to ignore the old woman as she began to chatter.   
  
  
  
"What else do you remember child?" She asked cautiously with suspicion.   
  
  
  
That was honestly none of her business. What could he really tell her? That he was servant of the Seiryuu no miko? Sieryuu, no. He would have to go back. No no no, not now, he didn't want to go back. He didn't want to fight anymore. Not now, not here, not against her. What if they hurt her? This thought caused him to bolt straight up. Searing pain ripped through him, he clutched his arm and observed his bandaged body through squinted eyelids. This hurt far worse than he had imagined. The woman looked startled through her wide eyes.   
  
  
  
"Good heavens young man are you possessed. Lay back down now!"   
  
  
  
He had the urge to wave her away, but ignored it. Just play along. He was the patient one of the twins. He could wait.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I'm searching in the woods   
  
And high above the hills   
  
Just to find   
  
To find my Samurai   
  
Someone who won't regret   
  
To keep me in his net   
  
Yes I need   
  
I need my Samurai   
  
  
  
  
  
  
And there she was. Standing there tears streaming pitifully down her cheeks. Seeming utterly helpless. He glared warningly at the creature behind her she didn't appear to be acknowledging. It didn't look like it was going to heed his warning anymore than a rabbit would listen to a fox command not to run. Her head whipped up and looked straight at him with fear. Fear for what. That could wait for another time, he thought flinging the dagger skillfully over her. She yelped thinking its destination was for her head. He almost chuckled. Why would he want to hurt her? He gently helped her up smiling as she realized who he was. He closed his eyes calmly relishing the feel of her as she threw her arms around him. She was so soft and warm.   
  
  
  
He unwound her from him and offered to take him to his home, which she gratefully accepted. Every now and then he would allow himself the pleasure of taking her hand in his, if only to guide her. His foster parents were only too elated to see he had 'finally' brought home a young lady. Amiboshi noticed the broken look on her face that had absorbed her features since he had found her, only letting go to a brief blush when his mother commented on what a lovely couple they'd make and how good a wife she would be for him. That was mostly the conversation, or one-sided conversation, they tried to evoke out of her.   
  
  
  
What had happened to those beautiful eyes? Once so sweet and forgiving now hopeless and relenting. Who had hurt her in such a way. He felt his hand tighten around his fork at the image brought from his imagination. Bastards. That's all they were. Worthless bastards.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
I'm your little butterfly   
  
Moving like the moon   
  
Painting colors in the sky   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He had taken her into the forest in hopes of talking to her. His heart warmed at the way she watched him. Even after all he had done, she still offered that same redemption. Only now he would not be the fool. He would make a good husband to her. They could live the beautiful life he had unknowingly wanted since he was born. He would finally have someone to be at his side for eternity. Suboshi didn't count; he loved his brother from than life itself, but how long until he finally sacrificed him for his affections to Yui? He needed his own koii. And he had picked her. Despite his obvious duplication to his brother, they were two totally different people. Suboshi loved to fight and had a blood lust for it, he was more peaceful or wanted to be and had no care for fighting unless told to do so, Suboshi loved the darkness probably why he chose his mate to be Yui, he on the other hand had wanted Miaka, for her essence, innocence and light.   
  
  
  
Amiboshi shivered with loneliness as he remembered the events of that night.   
  
  
  
He told her. How he wanted her by his side always, how he wanted to make her his wife, how he could make her happy. He wanted her to drink the same potion given to him. He wanted to give her the same peace and redemption she offered to his own essence. This would make her happy. She would forget, she would know nothing but him. And they could start again, live happily ever after as the saying went. But no, that only worked for prince charming and the fairy tale princess. Neither of them was either. She had sadly and a bit reluctantly refused him. Even after what happened she would not give up the happy memories of her seishi.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
I'm your little butterfly   
  
Moving like the moon   
  
Making patterns in the sky   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She didn't want him. No, that wasn't true. She did want him. But she couldn't have him. Just as he knew he couldn't have her. Not now. Not yet anyways. Maybe in another place, another time. She loved another. Tamahome she said. How could she ever think herself unworthy of such a lowly creature? A man who stole from the ground, she felt herself tainted. Nakago. The son of a bitch. He did this. Yet, should he bet killing him or thanking him? He had given him this moment with Miaka, but he had taken something in which could never be given back. He smiled into her eyes. Showing her he had no resentment towards her, as he would coax out a bunny from its hole. And just like one she came to and smiled back. He brushed a lock of chocolate out of her face and kisses her cheek, her forehead as if she was a god to worship. And she was. To him.   
  
  
  
He wanted to take her lips into his. To wake up to her every morning. To lift the veil from her face and give her the kiss of claim. He wanted to make love to her under the moon. Everyone wanted something. And the hurt of disappointment was nothing he was immune to. He had asked her to stay, he would go retrieve her seishi. Bad boys don't cry, Bad boys don't cry, Bad boys don't cry, Bad boys don't cry.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
Wasted Samurai   
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
Wasted Samurai   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Did the girl not know what 'stay put' means?! He glared, protecting her from Tomo once more. They wouldn't hurt her. Not again. He was loosing and fast. Nobody hurts her. Nobody touches her. He vague rustling behind him but ignored it. Suddenly the sharp familiar battle cry rung through the air. Suboshi! His brother! He continued his stance to Miaka, still protecting her. After he had finished off Tomo he rushed to great his brother. If he couldn't have Miaka, let the gods at the least have his own brother by his side. He made the forget offer to his blood. Only to be given back to him in a kiss.   
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
I'm your little butterfly   
  
Moving like the moon   
  
Painting colors in the sky   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He didn't know how he regained his memory. Only that Okaa-san had put a vase of Magnolias in his room near the window. Amibushi of course complained but she shrugged him off simple stating that the room needed something apart from the dankness of it. He glared but let it be. He hadn't cared for them just as she probably expected. The water ran dry and the sun beat down on them withered. What brought his eyes to their dying petals was beyond him but for some reason when he was staring at the moon from his window he averted his gaze. There bravely and struggling to do so stood crimsony brown petals desperately trying to retain their wrinkle free texture, in the middle were brownish green dots. Hazel.   
  
  
  
And everything had returned. She had returned. All these years, waiting. Of waiting. For something just out of indescribable reach. Amibushi had ran. Ran to wherever he had hoped a seishi would be. After stalking and nearly killing himself into the palace where surely Hotohori would be he found out. She was gone. Gone back to her own world. With him. With Tamahome. He had seen the crushed eyes of the emperor. His own echoed his pain as his made his was back to the lonely cottage.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
I'm your little butterfly   
  
Moving like the moon   
  
Making patterns in the sky   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dead, all, dead. His brother his life, the Seiryuu no seishi. Gone everyone. He was alone. No one to see him bleed. And certainly no one to see the tears caress his face. He meant nothing. His existence meant not a single thing. Hazel. He remembered the want in her eyes. A life wasted. Love wasted.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
Wasted Samurai   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Amibushi sighed as the tune faded into the night's air. Perhaps she heard. Maybe her love echoed his own. Maybe. But until then he would wait. Wait to hear her own mirroring melody of acceptance. But until then he would wait. Wait and be her wasted Samurai.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Aiiaiia Aiiaiia Aiiaiia   
  
Wasted Samurai   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Whatchya think? Cioo? Nioo? R&R peoples^_~y, luve, peace, and tanning grease! 


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